How Do You Relax?
by Larien Mithrandir
Summary: Pickles decides monogamy might not be so bad. Sticky-sweet, smutty one-shot. Rated M for explicit language, alcohol usage, and sexual content. Pairing is PicklesxOC. Reviews are appreciated.


**A/N:** I don't usually write fiction with original characters, but I wanted to write another lemon…A sticky-sweet lemon…And I'm still hung up on Metalocalypse…And I don't write slash lemons…So, I gave Nathan a younger sister. She's five years younger, to be exact. I'm trying not to make her seem like a Mary Sue, but if I do, I apologize…I hate Mary Sues…And yes, I gave Pickles a real name. Someone else gave him this name, and it kind of fits Pickles, in my opinion. I don't remember who gave him this name, but if you, awesome author, happen to read this and want credit, let me know. Anyways, read, review, and enjoy!

~Larien~

Jessi Explosion stalked the halls of Mordhaus, her raven black hair braided down her back and her pale blue eyes shooting frozen daggers. The twenty-two-year-old girl loved her older brother, but sometimes he could be _such_ a pain in the ass. It had been over nine months now since she had graduated from college and been immediately hired on to work for Nathan's band. She had no specific job title, but her main duties were to act as the manager's secretary and to baby-sit the man-children of Dethklok.

Things were always hectic around Mordhaus, but today, Nathan had gone too far. She had been on her way to Charles's office to deliver a draft of a minor contract the manager had told her to type up when she had walked past the living room. She had stopped when she had overheard the boys talking.

"So, whats does yous guys t'ink about Nat'an's sister?" Skwisgaar asked. At this, Jessi knew she had to stick around and hear the end. She had always been curious as to what the boys thought about her. She knew this conversation had taken place before, but she had never been lucky enough to catch it. She also knew that they were only doing it now to upset Nathan.

"Guys, no, don't do this," Nathan complained. Jessi frowned.

"Is t'inks she's a reallies nice goil," Toki sighed. "Is wants to kiss her." She couldn't help but giggle quietly at the Norwegian's innocence.

"Guys," Nathan rumbled.

"I think she'sch weird," Murderface growled. "I mean, she believesch in all thosche godsch and schit!"

"Ja," Skwisgaar agreed. "But I'd does her." Jessi shuddered. _You'd do anything with a pussy_, she thought to herself.

"Dude!" Nathan yelled.

Jessi then heard the distinct sound of liquid sloshing in a bottle. Pickles had presumably just taken a swig of tequila or vodka. "Yeah, dood, I'd _totally_ do 'er," the redhead chimed in. Pickles was her favorite. Over the past nine months, she'd gotten to know him so well. If neither one was busy, the pair could be found in each other's company discussing music, watching tv, reading, flirting, or just enjoying the silence. One could almost go so far as to call them a couple.

She cautiously peeked in to see Pickles glancing sideways at her brother, his trademark grin plastered on his face and a devilish gleam in his eyes. "I'd do _everything_ to 'er." Of course, she knew he felt this way about her. But Jessi had told him time and time again that if he wanted sex, he had to work for it.

At this, Nathan roared, "GUYS, I SAID DON'T! She's my sister! Don't even _think_ about fucking touching her!"

A scowl had fixed itself to Jessi's face and she had hurried to deliver the draft to Charles. Instead of knocking, greeting the manager, and chatting away with him, she had stormed in, tossed the draft on the large desk, and stormed back out, leaving the man to stare open-mouthed after her.

Jessi now sat in her room, seething at Nathan's overprotective streak. Loud heavy metal music was pouring from the speakers of her iPod-compatible stereo. "That stupid bastard thinks he has the right to control my life?" she questioned herself. "I'm fucking twenty-two years old! I'm a fucking adult! That damn, mother-fucking douche bag!" At this, she sat up abruptly. "I can't believe he's still so damn overprotective! If I want to have sex, then damn it all to Hell, I will!" She stood and began pacing. Her shoulders were tense and after a few minutes, her neck began to ache.

She needed to relax, but her usual methods did not seem to be working. She glanced over to where her guitar, a Gibson Flying-V whose faceplate she'd painted herself, stood on its stand beside her desk. Jessi decided that playing guitar right now would most likely make her angrier, as the only feeling she could conjure up was hatred.

But maybe painting? No, she'd only sling the paint onto the canvas, making a bigger mess in her room. Besides, she was out of blue paint.

The dark-haired girl looked around the mess of a room she occupied and gave a tiny thought to cleaning it up. However, a familiar voice out in the hallway caught her attention. "Mmm, cinnamon buns," a Yooper-accented voice drawled. Jessi smiled immediately and ran to her door. She yanked it open and looked to her right to find herself staring at Pickles's backside. It was a nice view, she had to admit that.

The girl walked out of her room, shut the door behind her, and caught up to the drummer. She linked her left arm in his right and beamed up at him, "Hey, Red, you busy?" He looked down, a bit surprised at her sudden appearance, and smiled back at her.

"Nah, I'm not busy, little Blackbird," he replied. He then took note of the tension in her shoulders. "Somethin' botherin' ya?"

Jessi sighed. "Just my brother. See, I overheard you guys', um, _discussion_ of me." Pickles blushed a bit and nodded. "Nathan's always been overprotective of me. Even when he left to join a band, he still called almost every night to check up on me. And I liked it when I was younger, but I'm twenty-two now. I think it's getting a bit old, you know? I'm an adult, for fuck's sake! If I wanna fuck somebody, I'll fuck 'em!"

The redhead laughed at this. "Ah, just enjoy it, Jess! My brother's a mother-douche beag. Sometimes, I'd give almost anythin' if he'd actually, y'know, show that he _cared_ about me. Ya just need ta calm down." She found his accent so endearing.

By this time, the pair had reached Pickles's room. He opened the door and allowed her to walk in first. She picked her way across the bottle-strewn floor and plopped down on his unmade bed, kicking her bare feet against the mattress. "So, tell me: How do you relax, _Shawn_?" The scrawny man cringed a bit at the mention of his real name. He had lost a game of Gin Rummy to the girl three months ago and his punishment was that he had to tell her his real name. Afterwards, though, he had made her promise that she would only use it when the two were alone.

"Well, sometimes, I sit down," Pickles started, grinning. He plopped himself down beside Jessi. She smirked back at him.

"You sit down, huh?" she asked playfully. She slung her leg over his lap to straddle him. "Like this?"

"Yeah, like that," the redhead grinned more broadly. He then took a swig of a fresh bottle of rum and held it up to her. She accepted the bottle and took a drink, grimacing a bit as the alcohol burned her throat. Pickles laughed a little at her inexperience.

"Hey, I can't help it that it burned my throat!" Jessi whined. Pickles took the bottle from her and set it down on the floor.

"Allow me ta make it better for ya, little Blackbird," he grinned, the devilish gleam from earlier returning to his eyes. He pressed his lips to hers gently, and she kissed back. He put his hands on her small waist and let them rest there. After a moment, her arms slid around his neck. He then squeezed her hips a bit, making her gasp. As her mouth opened, he slid his tongue in to explore. As she relaxed from the initial shock, she allowed her tongue to dance with his.

The two finally broke for air. Jessi grinned at him and said teasingly, "Shawn, I'm not so sure I'm relaxed enough. What else do you do?"

"Sometimes, I lay down," the drummer answered as he stood up, picking the girl up with him. He turned around and gently laid Jessi on her back on his bed. He crouched over her, his knees still between her legs. He gently slid his hands under the hem of her black tank top and looked up at her, raising his pierced eyebrows and looking for all the world like a kid with a Christmas gift. "May I?" the redhead asked innocently.

"Well," she said, feigning mock contemplation, "I _guess_ you've worked enough for it. Go ahead." Pickles complied, quickly slipping the cotton material over Jessi's head and discarding it on his floor. He now took in the sight of her lacey black bra. He even took time to note the tiny red bow nestled between the cups. He then stripped his own shirt, exposing his smooth chest and stomach. She grabbed a couple of his dreads and playfully tugged his face back down to hers, allowing his forehead to rest on her own.

"Are ya sure ya want this, little Blackbird? It's gonna change how ya look at me," Pickles whispered solemnly.

"Only if you promise me that this isn't a one-time fling," Jessi replied.

The drummer smiled broadly and sat back up. Using one of his longer dreads, he pulled the rest of his dreads into a sloppy up-do. He leaned back down and kissed her forehead, slowly working his way south. He left a burning trail from her forehead to the waistband of her dark blue jeans. He quickly unfastened them and slid them off, smirking at the sheer black lacey cloth underneath. The redhead then slid his own jeans off. He ran his hands up her outer thighs and kissed her inner thighs. She shuddered and he looked up in time to see her eyelids flutter shut.

"That's right. Sometimes, I close my eyes," Pickles said as he sat her up and removed her bra. She gasped as he took her right nipple into his mouth, lightly sucking and grazing it with his teeth. She tossed her head back in sheer pleasure, moaning at each heightened sensation. He soon switched his attention to her left nipple. Her reactions only encouraged him.

Pickles eventually began trailing kisses down Jessi's stomach again. He finally reached the lacey hem of her last remaining garment. Casting a quick devilish grin up at her, he took the waistband in his teeth and pulled the panties off. He was now kneeling at the end of his bed, taking in every inch of his little blackbird with his eyes.

"What are you doing, Red?" Jessi asked, sitting back up to look at him quizzically.

"Worshipping," the drummer whispered reverently.

"I'm no different from the groupies and hookers," she said accusingly.

"Ye're on a whole other plane, Jessi. Ye're special ta me. I've never taken this much time to indulge in a woman before. And I ain't seen a groupie or a hooker in months. I wanna make dis special fer ya. I want ya ta be mine and mine alone." Pickles kept his reverent tone throughout his explanation. After a few more moments of his worship, he stood and went to his night stand. He pulled a small square package from the top drawer and returned to his place at Jessi's feet. He stripped himself of his underwear and sheathed his throbbing member.

Jessi watched as her best friend climbed back on top of her and positioned himself at her glistening entrance. "Are ya sure ye're ready fer dis?" he asked seriously. She nodded and he gently slid himself in. The dark-haired girl squeezed her eyes shut and bit her lower lip. He kissed away the tears that slipped from the corners of her eyes.

"I prahmise it'll feel better soon," Pickles whispered. Jessi only nodded in reply. He took this as his cue to begin thrusting slowly. He captured her lips again, silencing her whimpers. Soon, her whimpers of pain became moans of pleasure. The delightful sounds coming from her throat encouraged the drummer to thrust a bit faster. He pulled his lips from hers and trailed kisses down her throat, enjoying how vocal she became.

"Oh…Mmm! Right there!" The redhead looked up at her, grinning at the look of pleasure painted across her face. Her arms were around his neck, her nails trailing lightly up and down his spine. He secretly took pride in the fact that he was the first and only man to have ever caused this reaction in Jessi.

Suddenly, he felt Jessi's muscles tighten as she said, "Sh-Shawn, I think I'm—Ah!" She hit her climax and her nails dug into Pickles's back. He thrust a couple times more, her muscle spasms causing him to climax as well.

Pickles finally collapsed on top of Jessi, sweating and panting. He slowly slid himself out of her and smiled down.

"I'm gonna go wash off, little Blackbird. Wanna join me?" he asked teasingly.

"No, I think I'm just going to lay here. I'm really tired," she replied. The redhead kissed her on the forehead and sauntered into his bathroom to take a hot shower. As she lay there, reveling in her moment of defiance, she prayed to whatever deities might be listening that he would keep his silent promise. She soon drifted off and floated into a Technicolor dream world.

The drummer returned fifteen minutes later to find Jessi curled up with her head on his pillow and the sheet pulled up to her chin. He smiled at her lovingly and crawled under the sheet to snuggle up to her protectively. He wrapped his thin arms around her and kissed her ear lightly. Just before he drifted off to join his little blackbird in Dreamland, he decided that he would be content to stay as he was, curled around his best friend and—now—lover, for the rest of eternity.


End file.
